


City-boy in the Wilderness

by theLiterator



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Camping, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-07
Updated: 2010-01-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 05:19:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/744709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theLiterator/pseuds/theLiterator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daveth is a rogue with a heart of gold and a teeny bit of a dark side. Aedan is a dangerous fighter who's recently lost everything. Ser Jory is a dickhead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	City-boy in the Wilderness

**Author's Note:**

> For [lauresque](http://lauresque.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://lauresque.livejournal.com/) **lauresque** who's prompt was something along the lines of "Warden of your choice/Daveth. Pre-Joining."

Camping in the Korcari wilds was a daunting prospect for a city-bred rogue. Daveth jumped at every sound, and kept too close to the fire, or so Jory kept telling him. Daveth rather wondered when Jory had had wilderness experience himselg. The only full Warden among them was Alistair, and he seemed content to let the other three handle the whole excursion. Probably part of their test, Daveth thought glumly.

Well, chalk up another failing score for him.

Aedan came back from using the jakes, and settled down next to him, sending a look of disgust towards the complaining man.

“It’s only too close to the fire if your leathers start smoking,” he said.

Daveth smiled brightly at the man. “Thanks, good to know.”

Aedan nodded briefly, and Daveth caught himself wondering what _his_ story was. Daveth had already told his own, and every Darkspawn in a day’s march knew Jory’s.

“Got a story for the campfire, Ser?” he asked, hoping it was subtle enough not to offend. Aedan seemed pretty close to the edge, dark fury in his eyes even when there were no darkspawn to fight.

“Ever been to Highever, Daveth?”

“I have,” Jory spoke up from the other side of the fire.

Aedan leveled a cold stare in Jory’s direction. Daveth shivered at the intensity. Jory ignored it.

“I met the Teyrn, even. Nice enough bloke. A bit soft though. If I’d held the title Teyrn, you can bet I’d never let _my_ sons carry on as he did.”

Aedan growled. Literally growled. Daveth was glad he’d taken advantage of the jakes earlier.

“I’m sorry,” Jory said. “Do you know the Teyrn?”

“He was my _father_.” Aedan stated. Jory paled.

“I meant no offense, of course, Ser Cousland.” He tried, stuttering a little. Aedan visibly regained control of his temper.

“I was asking Daveth, anyway.”

“I haven’t, no.” Daveth said, trying to sound as polite and nonthreatening as possible. How did a Teyrn’s son get to be a recruited anyway? He’d heard rumors about the camp of a coup, of course, but no one believed those!

“Never mind then,” Aedan said. “I’m going to bed. Wake me for my watch.” He abruptly left the circle of firelight for the one of the two rough tents they’d pitched.

“Well,” Jory said acidly. “Makes you wonder who died and made _him_ queen of the world, doesn’t it?”

“If you believe the rumors, his whole family, including his eight-year-old nephew.” Daveth said quietly. “Anyway, I think it’s high time I turned in myself. Good night, friends.” He left Jory gaping behind him as he joined Aedan in his tent.

“Sorry about back there. Some people just aren’t happy unless everyone around them is miserable, you know?” he said to Aedan. Aedan was wrapped in a wool cloak, army issue, and feigning sleep as deliberately as possible.

Daveth didn’t mind, he just kept talking. “Anyway, I don’t care that you’re a Teyrn’s son, and I don’t like listening to rumors much. I just think being a Warden can get awful lonely, you know?” This, of course, is the delicate part, the part where he gets either a tumble or a beating. But Aedan-- his rugged good looks and darkness make it worth the gamble. Daveth has never denied being one for a little danger, and he’s not going to start lying to himself tonight.

"Okay then," Daveth said, after a few moments and no response. "Good night." he settled down on the ground, wrapped his cloak around himself, resigned himself to a lack of sleep. He rather hated the wilderness

Daveth had only just finished bundling the cloak around himself to his satisfaction when a hand clamped over his mouth and he was bodily hauled against someone firm and masculine.

Aedan hissed in his ear, "You really want this? Do you know what is about to happen?"

Daveth didn't know, not really, but a man could hope, couldn't he? He nodded against the hand, tried not to worry about the fact that his air supply was nearly cut off.

"Good," Aedan growled. "Take off your armor. Quietly." he removed his hand. Daveth sat up, could make out Aedan by the silhouette from the fire. His eyes were slits, glittering and darker than the rest of him.

Daveth thought about what Alistair had said, about darkspawn attacking helpless campers, and about how little he wore under his custom fitted leathers, but ultimately decided not to argue.

He stripped as quietly as he could, refusing to be self-conscious, despite being nearly naked and chilled by the night air. "Good," Aedan said again, with the exact same intonation. Daveth shivered.

Aedan grabbed his wrist, tugged him none-too-gently to the ground again. Aedan maneuvered Daveth's willing body to press up against his.

Daveth thought he could feel a hint of lips against the back of his neck, but knew he must be mistaken. Aedan shifted some, and Daveth could hear the scraping noise of a jar unscrewing.

He relaxed by degrees. Aedan wasn't the brute he wanted people to see him as, then. Daveth smiled, knowing Aedan could not see it.

Aedan laughed, and Daveth realized the man hadn't been laughing darkly on purpose earlier-- that's just the way he sounded when he laughed. The trickle of fear-thrill-pleasure this sent down his spine went straight to his cock.

An oil-slicked finger slipped inside him, and Daveth jumped a little, tense with surprise. Aedan shifted behind him, bit at the junction of shoulder and neck, licked over the sore spot. "Good?"

Daveth moaned, writhed against the single fingertip inside of him. "More," he gasped.

Aedan slid his free hand back around Daveth's waist, rubbed his thumb in soothing circles on Daveth's abdomen, even as he penetrated Daveth deeper. Daveth had to hand it to him, he know what he was doing.

Aedan was just as eager as Daveth, it seemed. Once he had been thoroughly prepared, Daveth felt the blunt head of a cock against him, even as Aedan changed his grip to a more stimulating one. His hips stuttered a bit, pushing forward into Aedan’s strong, rough grip, back against his hard cock, then Aedan thrust into him, hot and hard and living and Daveth struggled to catch his breath.

It was quick and dirty and rough, the way sex ought to be in a tiny, defenseless camp in the middle of the wilderness. After though, Aedan kept his grip around Daveth’s waist tight and warm, and buried his face against Daveth’s shoulder blade.

Daveth might have even felt the damp warmth of tears, but not even the worst of Denerim’s interrogators would pry such an admission from his lips.


End file.
